CHAPTER 26

wake up, wake UP, WAKE UP

The half hearted excuse Don made to leave didn't stick with Mars. His face had fallen when he got close enough to see her, and she saw his words for what they were- an excuse to take away what she needed.

The strides they'd made in his small room were now meaningless. He probably thought he was helping her, she realized, but he was only making everything worse.

I hate him. The thought circled her, taunted her, as she walked up the front steps to the Stilinski house.

It was dark. She didn't even know when it happened. Time wasn't worth keeping track of any more. She'd been running through all the ways she could think of to get uppers. She didn't care what kind. It had been days since she'd had anything of any sort.

If Don wants to cut me off then fucking let him.

Don had said nothing of the sort, but she knew. She knew it was coming.

The front door flew open, Scott and Stiles ran out of it and well past her. Scott noticed her first and turned back. "Mars, hey," he greeted awkwardly. "We, uh-" he scratched the back of his neck.

"You look like you're in a hurry," she said, eyeing the industrial wire cutters that Stiles held. "Where are you guys going?" Maybe if she joined in now, they could all just forget about her cracking Scott's ribs up. Maybe.

Maybe she just imagined it all.

They shared yet another look. Mars caught it. The frequency they'd been leaving her out had only increased with the revelation of Scott's lycanthropy. It hurt. It really fucking hurt. She tried to keep the tears at bay, it stung, but she managed.

They hated her, Scott had to after she hurt him, and Stiles probably did now too.

She needed to get high, at least, she did to think straight again. Maybe she could break into Don's room. She didn't know if he kept it there but it could be worth the shot.

"Mars, it's about, you know..." Stiles trailed off, nodding to Scott, alluding to the supernatural world they didn't want her in. Something they'd been eager to share with her before the lacrosse field. They didn't want her to come with them. She sensed it.

"Save it. Where are you going?"

"The school," Scott stepped forward and shared. Stiles hit him and he shrugged.

"Why?" She questioned, not a fan of them shutting her out like this.

"We're meeting Derek there to try and draw out the Alpha."

"You're trying to capture the Alpha?" Her voice took on a judgmental tone, but it was only to hide the fear. What if it worked? What if it really was her? "Oh, good one. Good luck." She headed back for the door.

"Come with us then, wise ass." Stiles said.

"Fine."

"You sure?" Scott directed the question to Stiles.

"Yep, now let's go."

When they pulled up to the school, Derek was waiting. Mars got out of the car last. Before her foot struck earth, she and Derek locked eyes. She couldn't get a read on him, but she had questions and he knew it.

Derek looked away first. "He's in there." He nodded to the backseat of his Camaro. All three teens bent and looked in. Scott's boss, Dr. Deaton, lay awkwardly across the back, arms tied and mouth covered with duct tape.

"Oh, he looks comfortable," Stiles said.

Mars was speechless and so profoundly lost, she didn't know where to begin. How much had they not told her?

Scott directed Stiles and Mars away from Derek and towards the School before she could ask.

"Hey, where are you going?" Derek followed them a few steps.

"Leading the Alpha here." Scott called back.

Mars back stepped. "If you guys don't mind, I think I'll keep watch over Derek. I don't trust him." Scott gave her a nod of approval, Stiles bit his tongue but let her go back.

Derek was in the same spot when she returned to him, they stood in silence for some time after. "You told me the truth, thank you." Mars admitted, quietly.

"Do you have any news?"

"No. I only found some bullets." Her throat was dry. "Do you know what's happening to m-" She'd nearly got her whole question out when the sound of a dying cat came from the school's speaker system. Is this seriously his plan? She rolled her eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me." Derek noted.

"This is just embarrassing." Mars agreed, not daring to ask the question again. Not wanting to hear the answer.

She felt bare, exposed even, as they fell back into silence. "You're not one of us, if that's what you want to know." She looked to him, he was eyeing her carefully. Part of her felt his words held a double meaning. She wasn't a werewolf, but she also didn't belong with them.

"So… I'm not the alpha?" He bellowed a deep laugh, it was foreign coming from him. She supposed it was a dumb question.

"Why do you think I have Deaton tied up? For fun?" When he said it, Mars felt the weight of her fears lift from her. She may not know what was happening to her, but at least she wasn't hurting people. On the same hand, she was also having a hard time picturing Scott's boss killing anybody.

The loudspeaker sounded again, but it was different this time. The earth shook beneath their feet. With one look at Derek, she knew they'd done something very, very wrong. There was fear in his eyes, something she didn't believe him capable of feeling.

"Did you hear that?!" Stiles exclaimed, busting through the doors of the high school with Scott trailing just behind him.

"Are you trying to get us all killed?!" Yup. They'd certainly done something very wrong.

Mars saw the black figure coming emerging from the woods, all the air from her lungs left her when she tried to warn Derek. She prayed Derek could read her expression, because every muscle of her body was frozen.

When she found her voice, it was too late.

Claws pierced straight through Derek's torso. Blood bubbled up and gurgled from his mouth. She screamed, close enough to smell its foul, rotting breath, it was all she could do.

It was massive, it was ugly, and it was angry.

The Alpha threw Derek's body and moved to all fours.

She ran. She ran before checking her friends were alright. She ran fast and far before turning around.

"Stiles!" She screeched into the black forest. "Scott?" Her voice was hoarse and cracked and her chest heaved harder than it ever had in the past.

There was no one.

Nothing.

Only a dark expanse with a school illuminated by street lamps, minuscule in the distance and obstructed by trees.

I need to go back.

She started to run back, but doubt plagued her. Would she be able to do anything when she got there? No. It wasn't just some werewolf. No, that was a demon of some kind. Her feet quit before her mind did.

Terrified, she stared at the building. Still small, still far. She rested her hands on her knees and hunched in an attempt to catch her breath. It hadn't followed her. It chose Scott. If he was even still alive.

She had to do something. If she didn't, she'd be a wreck, she'd be paralyzed. She'd left her best friends behind, left Stiles behind, and the revelation of that weighed heavy on her chest. When she'd done it, she hadn't thought. Her instincts were so deeply selfish, no matter how she fought to change them.

She chose flight over fight, and it might have cost their lives.

But, maybe, despite her selfishness, there was still something she could do.

She took off the flats that had been slowing her down and ran again, with a destination this time. Five miles and straight to the Sheriff's station. The adrenaline that fueled her was beginning to wane, but there was still enough there to make it.

"Sheriff!" Mars shouted, busting through the station doors.

Her shirt was ripped and bloody in four separate places from snagging trees. Her arms and face were dirty, her eyes red from crying, and her feet were bloodied in a way that was hard to look at, completely raw.

She barged into Sheriff's office without so much as a knock, and ran to him. "Scott and S-Stiles-" she heaved, "T-the-the school-" she held her throat as she gasped for air. "It had-" She tried to get words out but her closed throat prevented them. "Red eyes," she croaked, and began to cry with the little water she had left in her. It was the ugliest cry anyone would ever see.

"It killed." Heave. "Him." Heave. "Claws. Impaled." Was all she could manage now. "Help." She was desperate, she couldn't keep her thoughts straight, but she needed him to believe. She needed him, now more than ever.

Sheriff handed her his glass of water from the desk.

The whole station stood outside the glass windows to his office, waiting to see what he would do. His hand dragged over his face. He took a deep breath.

All eyes were on them, on him. It was no secret that Mars Moss had different rules. He took in the bloody footprints leading to where she stood. He took in the mania that she exuded, the dread.

He had to treat this like anyone else, he knew he had to- it could cost him his job if he didn't.

But when she was like this, so broken, it was almost too hard not to do as he had always done. Almost.

Mars is clearly out of her right mind, he thought. Red eyes and claws? Dispatch had already received calls about pranks at the school. Whatever they'd done, it must have scared a very high Mars into seeing things that weren't there, or so he rationalized.

"What did you take?" He questioned, calmly. In those 4 words, her world became a broken, hideous beast of a thing.

Mars looked up at him from behind her glass of water. In every inch of her features, he knew she had never felt more betrayed in her entire life- she couldn't have heard him right. He wouldn't... He- "What?" she asked, almost silent.

"What are you on?" He repeated, more serious this time. "Molly? Coke? Heroin? What is it this time?"

Mars raised her hand and slapped him clean across the face. Well, she did in her imagination. She had to fight every muscle in her body to keep it internal.

"I'm sober, I promised." She spat, granted she wasn't sober voluntarily but he didn't need to know that. "That's not the point. Your son needs you!" She had the excess fabric of his shirt clenched in her fists, and leaned against him for the support her legs were too tired to give her. "I need your help. You have to save them, you have to do something."

The weight of the world pressed back on her shoulders when she remembered how she'd run away without looking back. How she'd left two of the most important people in her life for dead. Could she live with herself if they didn't make it? She genuinely didn't think so.

"I'll go check it out." He agreed and looked back out at the sea of deputies. "But I'm going to have to keep you here."

He motioned Deputy Marks into the office. Sheriff's stomach dropped when he made eye contact with her.

He'd never seen anything like it, eyes so deeply hurt… so betrayed.

He hated this, he hated everything about this. He wanted to believe her so badly, but the evidence wasn't there, and she'd made him a promise.

A promise he knew she broke. It was killing him. He wanted to take it back as soon as he'd done it, to pull her to the cruiser, drive to the school, and just take care of it. When Deputy Marks approached Mars, he choked down the urge to shove him away.

Mars didn't know what she wanted to do. Did she want to lash out? Or was that just the overwhelming feeling of bile rising in her throat? Regardless of what it was she stood stock still, staring at Sheriff, unable to make sense of what he was doing.

No. She thought. You have to believe me, why don't you believe me! Her head was screaming and she couldn't turn it off.

Useless. Coward. Addict. She heard the words spiral in her head, in her own cruel voice. She covered her ears and then, she screamed. She looked insane, she knew she did, but she couldn't get a handle on it, she couldn't stop.

"WAKE UP" Came her violent screech as she continued holding her ears.

She'd snapped.

Whatever all this was leading up to, she'd snapped. Sheriff didn't believe her. She couldn't save Scott and Stiles. If it had been anyone else who came to the station, they'd be on their merry way back to the school. But it was her, it was her fault they were going to die. They would both die.

So, it was a dream.

It had to be a dream.

"wake up, wakE UP WAKE UP." Blood broke out of her palms from where she dug her nails in. Everyone stood and watched, unsure of what to do.

Sheriff placed his hands on either of her shoulders until she met his eyes. "Mars, sweetheart, I need you to calm down, I need you to breath. Can you do that for me?" He watched her big blues begin to register as she tried to breath, gradually becoming less labored, but still shaking.

He raised a hand to her cheek and moved her hair behind her ears. "I need you to listen to me now." She nodded, still focusing on her breathing. "You are not asleep. You're very much awake, and I am deeply worried for you right now." She could see the tears in his eyes. It was probably the worst part of the whole night.

That one, small detail.

"Don't worry about me- Scott and Stiles- they-" Her labored breathing picked up again, Sheriff reminded her to focus on it.

"I promise you we're going to go look into it," Mars closed her eyes in relief. Sheriff shut his eyes tightly to try and keep the flood threatening to spill out behind the gates. He opened them, Mars's were still shut. "Mars, you're going to go with Deputy Marks and take a few tests."

It sunk in for her then, that he really meant it. That she was awake, that she couldn't get out of this. That she'd just went absolutely mental in front of every on-duty cop in town. "Okay." She agreed with a cracked voice, just now opening her eyes. Sheriff dropped his hands and motioned to Marks that it was okay to take her now.

Sheriff flipped the blinds shut and sat down on the corner of the desk, he held his head his hands. This shouldn't be so hard. She broke the law he was sworn to uphold. Simple. End of story. And, yet, when she looked back at him he felt sick to his stomach.

He was putting half of his reason for being in a holding cell for Christ's sake! If this test came back positive, she'd be doing time in a juvenile detention center. It would be his fault her future was ruined. But if they were negative, that would almost be worse. Drugs? They could send her to rehab, she could get better.

Whatever that was? That complete break he'd just witnessed? There was a whole other mess of problems if she really was sober. And he knew he couldn't do anything to help her if that was the case.

The station looked as if they'd gone back to work. He knew everyone was watching him. To avoid crying out in frustration, he grabbed his keys and jacket, and headed to the school.